


Triple X Groovy

by itwascrabpeople



Category: Real Person Fiction, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ass Play, Dating, Drama, Jack is easy, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn Star AU, Porn with Feelings, Pornstars, Teasing, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-29 16:52:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6384628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itwascrabpeople/pseuds/itwascrabpeople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was asking for prompts and I got a request for a Pornstar AU. SO. YEP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Because my body is your body_   
>  _I won't tell anybody_   
>  _If you want to use my body_   
>  _[Go for it, yeah](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Et9llKBJdEs) _

“For the last fuckin’ time, I am not doin’ gay porn!” Jack crumples the business card for the “talent agency” and tosses it at Ryan, who is laughing his head off and lounging on the couch. “Stop leavin’ those in my room!”

“Matt’s making me!” Ryan shouts as Jack heads to the kitchen. “Dude, you know his boss is _really_ insistent about meeting with you, and it’d be good money!”

Jack has been hassled about meeting with Matt’s boss since Ryan dragged him to that Christmas party. Ryan’s been filming porn as long as Jack’s known him. They met in college, became fast friends, and after rooming together for only a week Ryan asked if he could shoot an _adult film_ in their dorm. Who was Jack to say no?

After a year of critiquing Ryan’s editing skills, and being challenged like, “if you can do better then prove it, pussy!” Jack finally caved and started editing for him. Not long after that, they quit college and moved into an apartment together to focus on their work. It’s been a beautiful partnership ever since.

Though Jack didn’t really think of himself as part of the adult industry, he’s certainly gone to enough events. The Christmas party was something else though, there were twinks and balloon boobs everywhere. And that one guy. That one _Matt’s boss_ guy. He was… something.

“I’m not talent, when’s he gonna get the hint!?”

Ryan groans, rewatching a scene he shot the day before with some dude that refuses to take his mask off for shoots, and some Swedish guy.

“For fuck’s sake, just meet with him. What could it hurt?”

**

“Sean, hey!”

The man from the party greets him, hand outstretched. He looks different; the hair on the top of his head is dyed a fiery red, and he’s not wearing glasses like he was at the party.

He’s as handsome as ever, though - wearing a suit, and an expensive one by the looks of it. It’s definitely tailored, with nice clean lines that are well fitted to his body. Jack gulps and looks around. The dude’s office is swanky as hell. If Jack didn’t know this guy was the director of “The Tiny Toy Box” - a very well known brand in the porn industry - he’d think it was a lawyer’s firm or something.

“Oh, I uh, don’t really like usin’ my real name,” Jack tells him uncomfortably, reaching out to shake the man’s hand. “Let’s just stick with Jack, s’what everyone calls me.”

“‘Kay, Jack it is,” the man smiles genially at him, and gestures Jack forward. “Please, have a seat.”

The chair is pure black leather and _huge_. Jack feels small sitting in it, like a kid called into the principal’s office after peeing on the wall outside of the classroom. Not that that happened or anything.

“I’m guessing you know why I wanted to meet with you,” the man states, smirking at Jack like they have some sort of secret together. It’s not too far off.

“I have an idea,” Jack says slowly, scooting closer to the desk. “Though I gotta be honest, I never really got your name.”

“Oh!” The man playfully smacks his own forehead. “I’m such a moron, sorry. My name’s Mark.” He grins at Jack, leaning forward and propping his chin up with his hand. “You’ll need to know it for when we start filming,” he says cheekily.

Jack doesn’t blush, though his face might feel a little hot to the touch. “Assumin’ I take the job.”

Mark throws his head back, laughing. “Of course you’ll take the job!” He stands from his chair and paces around the desk, sitting on its edge in front of Jack, looking at him with his stupid, kind brown eyes. “It’s got good pay, exclusivity, and you and me _know_ we’ve got good chemistry,” he finishes, leering.

“One drunken mistletoe kiss doesn’t mean nothin’,” Jack insists. “And besides, I am not on-screen talent. I’m just an editor.”

“We both know that more happened than just that,” Mark says, still smiling confidently. And handsomely. What an asshole. “I was thinking we could work out whether that kiss was a one off thing or not, we can even practise your onscreen potential.”

“What, here?” Jack doesn’t quite squeak, but his voice is a bit higher than usual.

Mark picks up a small remote from his desk, aims it at his office windows and the blinds flutter shut. Warm sunlight filters into the room from the open skylight, and Mark kneels over Jack, his knee balanced on the armrest. It’s like a whole other person from how he was at the party, all confident and sexy charisma - compared to the dorky, quiet guy wearing a Captain Planet shirt that Jack kissed under the mistletoe.

“If you’re up for it,” Mark says, leaning into him and grinning. God, Jack forgot how handsome he was up close. The end of Mark’s tie rests on Jack’s chest, and he can’t help but to slide it through his fingers.

“And if I say no?” Jack asks, his heart is racing like crazy and his lips feel dry, so he licks them quickly.

“Then it’s no,” Mark answers simply, his gaze falling to Jack’s mouth as he speaks. “But I don’t think you will.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to **eltrkbarbarella** for the [prompt](http://itwascrabpeople.tumblr.com/post/141838334958/pornstar-au)!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's like a skydive_   
>  _Or getting high_   
>  _The kinda thing'll maybe kill ya_   
>  _It's like I'm eye-to-eye_   
>  _With a wild lion_   
>  _Oh, I don't know what to tell ya_
> 
> [ _There's just this thing about you_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=12zJw9varYE)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jack is kind of easy. It's a Porn AU ok!

_“And if I say no?” Jack asks, his heart is racing like crazy and his lips feel dry, so he licks them quickly._

_“Then it’s no,” Mark answers simply, his gaze falling to Jack’s mouth as he speaks. “But I don’t think you will.”_

 

Cocky bastard. Jack rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to respond, the words “ _go fuck yourself_ ” right on his lips, when Mark bends down the rest of the way and kisses him. His tongue pushing hotly into Jack’s mouth and sliding against his own.

“ _Oh_.” Jack tilts his head up when Mark’s teeth drag against his lower lip before sealing his mouth onto his. Mark is all quick, eager movement. Practically falling into Jack’s lap as he sucks at his tongue, the slick press of lips the only sound filling the room.

Mark pulls back just barely, his mouth sliding wetly against Jack’s with the softest pressure, and Jack starts breathing shakily when he feels a hand slide down his waist. Mark tugs Jack’s shirt up to trail his fingers against the uncovered skin.

“We didn’t get to finish what we started at the party,” he says pouting, his fingers pressing into Jack’s hips. “You got on your knees and everything.”

Jack laughs breathily, feels himself flush at the memory. “Yeah, before fuckin’ _Matt_ cockblocked us.”

Mark grinds down against him, causing them both to moan as he kisses Jack again, messy and hot. When he pulls back Jack looks down and sees that Mark’s erection is a clear long shape pushing against the front of his trousers. For some reason the sight seems obscene; the clean cut suit against Mark’s obvious arousal. Jack loves it.

“That was a fucking _travesty_ ,” Mark notes, sounding sincere. “I hassled Matt for _weeks_ about you, couldn’t get over that hot Irish guy that wanted to blow me under the mistletoe.”

“Oh _God_ , don’t mention that,” Jack murmurs, remembering how he drunkenly dragged a very shy Mark to the bathroom and held mistletoe over his dick, yelling “Merry Christmas!” as he got to his knees.

Mark laughs and pushes a knee between Jack’s legs, rubbing his thigh against Jack’s erection. “I was like, I _have_ to find this guy,” he says, leaning down close to Jack’s ear. “I gotta fuck him, or marry him, or both.”

Jack flushes at the joke, but adds, “Or film a porno with him.” He reaches out to cup Mark’s crotch before he can retort, smiling when Mark shudders and presses his face into Jack’s neck.

“Yeah, that too.” Mark mouths at his neck, teeth biting lightly whenever Jack squeezes him. “All of the above, really.”

They start moving faster, and Jack uses Mark’s tie to pull him down into a kiss. God, he shouldn’t be so _easy_. But he feels strangely drawn to Mark, just like he did at the party when he didn’t even know who he was. There’s something about him that Jack just _can’t_ resist, it’s crazy.

“Ah, _c’mon_ ,” Jack says, spurring Mark to move harder against him. His neck tilts to the side a little when Mark’s lips press just under his ear.

“Let me do it, Jack,” Mark whispers hoarsely, eyes gone dark as he impatiently tugs at the button on Jack’s jeans. “Let me fuck you. On-screen, off-screen - who cares. We both get paid and we both get _this_.”

He finally gets Jack’s jeans loose, but instead of diving his hand into the front, Mark pulls Jack forward and slides his hand into the back of his pants. His strong fingers slipping beneath Jack’s underwear and squeezing the bare skin of his ass cheek.

“ _Fuck_... Mark.” Jack shivers, clutching at Mark’s tie like it’s a lifeline. “You’re a fucking _asshole_.”

“Say yes, Jack,” Mark says breathily, squeezing the soft mound in his hand. “Let me fuck you, let me film you. Just me, only ever me, Jack.” Mark uses his hand to urge Jack up into a kiss, sweeter than any they’ve shared.

“You aren’t playin’ _fair_ , ya dick,” Jack curses against his mouth, moving his ass back against Mark’s hand and grinding against his thigh.

“Hey, if playing dirty gets me what I want, then...” Mark trails off, his smooth, low voice is near hypnotic as his fingers delve deeper, slipping between the crack and teasingly brushing against Jack’s hole.

“Fuck… _you_.” Jack’s hand slips from Mark’s tie, and he presses the heel of his palm to his cock, feeling so fucking close if Mark would _just_. “Fine! Fuckin’ _fine_ , you got me.”

Mark pulls back with a giant grin on his face. He removes his hand from the back of Jack’s jeans, and leans back until he’s half-sitting on the desk. “Excellent! I’ll have Matt do up contracts and shit.”

“What the _fuck_!?” Jack groans, bucking against his own hand and missing the heat of Mark’s body. “You aren’t gonna… y’know?”

Mark tilts his head to the side, smiling mischievously at Jack. He’s leaning back and playing it cool, but he looks fucking _debauched_ with his boner straining against his pants, and the undone buttons of his suit and loose tie, and Jack notes the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“I don’t put out on the first date, Jack,” he says, voice light with an underlying gruffness that makes Jack’s cock twitch. Mark’s eyes trail over his body before meeting Jack’s gaze, and then he quickly glances away. It reminds Jack of the shy dork he met at the party, and something about that makes something warm spread through his chest. “So how’s about dinner this Friday at eight?”

“Would that count as a second date?” Jack asks, gasping as he squeezes himself a little and smirking when Mark swears under his breath. “‘Cause usually I put out on the third, but I’d make an exception for you.”

Mark blushes, bravado slipping as he watches Jack touch himself. “If you want,” he starts, licking his lips, “we could count the party as the first.”

“Hmmm.” Jack considers this, then with one last long press to his erection he stops and adjusts himself into his underwear. “Nah, that’d be cheatin’.” Standing up is _not_ comfortable, but Jack manages it, and steps forward between Mark’s legs. He leans in to kiss him messily, the back of his hand just brushing against the bulge in Mark’s trousers.

It barely lasts a second, and Jack is backing away before Mark can even respond to the kiss. He grins as Mark follows after his lips, eyes closed and lips parted slightly. “...Huh?”

Jack starts heading towards the door, smiling at Mark over his shoulder. “See ya Friday, Mark.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lead me out on the moonlit floor_   
>  _Lift your open hand_   
>  _Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance_   
>  _Silver moon's sparkling_   
>  _[So kiss me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LVqW8OTaPVM) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me this long to update! Crappy life things were happening, _really_ crappy, but things are mostly sorted now. Another thing to apologise for: this chapter is sort of filler, but longer than the other chapters! (I think!) I had this one mostly written before life things happened, but I only got to finish it tonight. Oh well. I'm aiming to keep this series short-ish sooo maybe three more chapters left? Or four, that's the ballpark anyway. Again, so sorry! And I'm still confused about the Christmas theme, but alas!

Jack thanks _Christ_ that Ryan isn't there when he gets home. He has plans, dirty plans. He's got the apartment to himself for once and he's still feeling flustered from what happened at Mark's office. No emotionally cold showers for Jackaboy tonight!

He sets down his messenger bag by the door and walks over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Just before he walks away he catches sight of a note tucked under the little cupcake magnet on the freezer door. It has dicks scribbled all over it - _of course_ , he thinks, rolling his eyes _-_ but on the back is a message that reads:

> _Matt's boss and Jacky sittin’ in a tree, f-u-c-k- making porn!!!? MATT TOLD ME THE GOOD NEWS i AM SO PROUD OF U ♥♥♥ -RYAN_
> 
> _P.S I ordered pizza and I took it with me to the amatuer shoot, so idk what you're doin' for dinner. oh well sux2bu xxx_

 

Jack scrunches up the note and trashes it. God Ryan's _never_ gonna shut up about this. They've talked about starring in the shoots themselves before, but Jack's always been vehement about how _fuck no_ he was about the idea. And when you're editing porn and going to parties, _well_ , you get offers. Jack's had little flings with people in the business before, usually they're the behind the scenes type, and usually it only lasts one night. But that hasn't happened in a really long while.

Ryan's different, he refuses to date on  _and_ off-camera workers. Working behind the scenes as much as Ryan does, he's made certain rules for himself. One is never treat the talent like shit, two is never sleep with the talent or anyone in the industry, three is to always carry condoms and lube, and four is make sure you have back up actors at the ready in case anyone doesn't show on the day of the shoot. No seriously, these are his rules. They're printed and laminated, and have been stuck on the fridge since they moved in.

Jack always managed to drift just on the outskirts of the industry, though it's gotten harder since he started exclusively editing Ryan's films. He knows the business and the people in it, some are nice, some are boring, some are hot as _balls_ and some are... more for a niche market. It's why Mark stuck out so much at the Christmas party, he was just a regular looking guy hanging out in the corner of one of the biggest porn star gatherings of the year. He looked so uncomfortable and out of place. Jack was instantly charmed just at the sight of him.

He keeps trying to reconcile the quiet guy from the party with the Mark he met at the office. Though he saw glimpses of it when they were _groping_ each other, it was like Mark was another person - but just as equally irresistible.

Even just the thought of Mark is enough to make his dick stand at attention. Jack is either super hard-up or or just really pathetically crushing on a guy he barely knows. Let's go with hard-up. Jack palms himself through his jeans, sighs, and heads to his room. 

_**_

_The Christmas Party_

 

“Jack, for the love of God - mingle, _schmooze_!” Ryan is dragging Jack towards the crowded bar, practically having to carry him along with how much Jack is stumbling.

“I ‘ _ave_ mingled and schmoozed!” Jack tries to shrug Ryan’s hands off his shoulders with very little success because holy _fuck_ he’s pissed. “I schmoozed most of the people at table nine,” he giggles as he leans against Ryan.

“Networking, Jack!” Ryan sighs, stopping and smiling as he smushes Jack's face in his hands. “Remember? Directors and agents? Sponsors? _Super_ well-known actors?"

"Eh," Jack waves his hand at him. "Who fuckin' needs 'em."

"Well... we do," Ryan says, blinking and dropping his hands from Jack's face. "That's pretty much the whole point of us being here."

Jack huffs and slumps against his side, staring drearily at the bar. " _Fine_ , I'll go do stupid business minglin'."

"That's my Jacky-baby." Ryan grins and gives Jack one final push towards the bar, saying, "And don't forget! Matt's boss is supposed to be here, so if you find his reclusive ass make sure to use your Irish charm to the full extent!"

Jack flips him off, too drunk to come up with a comeback that isn't _fuck you_ , as he heads to a stool. He knows about Matt's boss, most everyone does. Dude's barely ever seen publicly, but he _did_ do an interview for Out magazine with a featured photoshoot once. After that, people were _non-stop_ ranting about how he should do porn. But the guy doesn't even let out his name, he just goes by Mr. F, like he's in the fucking Men in Black or something. The hype just made Jack want to avoid everything about the guy like the plague, including the article photoshoot.

Once Jack's at the counter he decides against ordering another drink, asks for a water instead and slaps his own face a few times in the hopes of sobering himself up a little faster. He does manage to get a few new contacts after that, enough that he thinks Ryan'll be happy. And Jack is about to go find him when he spots an odd figure in the corner beside the dance floor.

He gets closer and sees that it’s a man standing awkwardly to the side of a large plant. He’s got dark shaggy hair and glasses, and he’s wearing a pink Captain Planet shirt. The guy has the face of someone that snuck into the _wrong_ party. Jack smiles to himself and walks over to him.

"Hello!" He greets him loudly over the music, and the man startles before turning to him. He is very handsome, and so laughably out of place that Jack almost wants to shield him from the party around them.

"Hi..." The man says slowly, and Jack is taken aback by how deep his voice is.

"Do you work for one of the companies?" Jack asks, then grins coyly. "Or are you a Planeteer, ‘cause, y’know," he pauses and winks exaggeratedly, “I could be one too.”

The corner of the man’s mouth quirks up, but he won’t _quite_ meet Jack’s eye. “Oh, is that supposed to be a line?”

“'Ey, it’s as good as any!” Jack laughs, then concedes, "Okay yeah, it was pretty bad. But it was either _that_ or, _"_ looks like dirt's not the only thing I'm picking up tonight _'_."

To Jack's pleasure the man laughs, shaking his head. "Oh God, that's horrible, _and_ vaguely insulting."

"Yeah! See, aren't ya glad I went with the first one?" Jack smiles at the man and gestures at the bar. "You wanna go get a drink wit' me?"

The guy looks at him in surprise before smiling and shyly looking away. "Actually, I don't drink," he says, speaking so softly that Jack has to lean in to hear him over the music. Not that he minds.

"That's fine!" Jack gently curls his fingers around the man's elbow. "You can watch me drink, s'just as fun!"

It takes a little for the guy to really open up, but Jack knows how to crack people. Like eggs. He's a social egg-cracker... okay he's drunk. But at least the guy seems to like his sense of humour. It seems that the dumber Jack's jokes get - the more the man starts to warm to him. Jack forgets all about the party around them, lost in listening to the guy's voice when he laughs a little louder, or speaks closer for Jack to hear him. Christ, that _voice_. He never gets his name, even as they wander away from the bar together. But Jack does learn that the guy  _does_ work for one of the companies, and has actually been considering going on-screen.

"Lots of people think it'd be a good business move," he says, shrugging as he looks down at the ground. 

Jack stops and stands before him, latching onto the man's hand - partially to keep his balance, but mostly because he just wants to. "'S'it somethin' you actually wanna _do_?"

Nameless - as Jack thinks of him in his head - just shrugs again, eyes meeting Jack's for longer than he has all night, and Jack is struck by just how _warm_ his gaze is. "If I found the right person," he says, voice soft and smooth, "yeah, I think I could."

Jack tamps down a sudden odd feeling of possessiveness; figures it's just the beer messing with his head as he nods. There's just something _about_ the guy - and it's not just that he's the only person here besides Ryan who's obsessed with Dark Souls. Jack finishes his drink and looks up, catching sight of something that fucking _delights_ him. "Mistletoe!" He yells excitedly, and grabs at No-Name's Captain Planet shirt to kiss him.

Jack laughs when their lips meet, muffled and close. Jack  _means_  the kiss to be jokey and chaste, but then Nameless slides an arm around his waist and pulls him closer. How's he gonna turn _that_ down? Their lips soften and Jack can’t help but to delve his tongue into the man's mouth, sighing when he uses his hand to tilt Jack's head back. It's so uncharacteristically assertive and _hot_ that Jack can't help but to grind against him, grinning against Nameless' mouth when he notices that he's already hard.

Jack surreptitiously reaches for the mistletoe, making a split-second decision. He pulls away and grabs the man's hand, smiling. "C'mon!" He pulls him to the men's room, and is super thankful it's empty as he turns to No-Name and presses him against the closed door.

They kiss, and Jack keens when the guy grabs his ass, fingers digging in as he pulls his hips closer.

" _God_ , I don't even know your name," the man gasps when they part, glasses adorably skewed.

"Makes two of us," Jack says, practically melting when their hips move together again. "But I really _really_ like you."

"Me too," Nameless smiles, pressing a soft kiss to Jack's cheek, and Jack _swears_ the guy's blushing. Oh, it's weird that that turns him on even more, isn't it? Jack slides his hands down Nameless' chest, rests his fingers at the belt of his jeans as he sinks to his knees. "Wh-what're you doing?" Nameless asks a little breathlessly.

Jack looks up at him, smiling innocently as he starts to slowly drag the zipper of the man's jeans down while sneakily reaching for the mistletoe in his pocket. He places a hand on the guy's thigh, grinning widely as he says, "Merry Christmas!"

 "Mr. F--?"

" _Ow_!" The man reaches up to rub the back of his head where the door smacked it. "Matt, what the fuck...?"

Wait, Matt? _Ryan's_ Matt? "Matt?" Jack peaks up but he can only see the top of someone's head through the crack in the door. 

"Sorry sir," Matt says, "But Wade's calling about the meeting for tomorrow, so - hey, who's in there with you?"

"No- none of your _business_ , just - give me a goddamn second and I'll be out."

"It's urgent though!" Matt yells even as Nameless Dude tries to push the door closed. "It's about Ken's contract - and also, there's like a line out here for people who wanna use the bathroom..."

" _Yes_ , okay, we got it, thanks Matt."

" _We_?" Matt sounds ecstatic as the man closes the door on him. "So there _is_ someone--!"

Nameless looks down at Jack, must notice his confused daze because he pulls him up and kisses him so damn sweetly. "I've gotta go," he says, voice low and urgent. Jack barely notices it when the man slips a card into his hand. "Call me?" He says, looking at Jack imploringly until he nods and then he's pulling away, gone.

Jack blinks, so completely lost as he looks at the card in his hand, the bold black letters standing out in the center:

**_Mr. F_ **

**_Head Director of The Tiny Toy Box™_ **

"Well, _fuck me_."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hey now, what's your name?  
>  You're really cute and really nice  
> [I think we should go on a date](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RUCerUZuu6Y)_

“My baby boy’s all grown up and sucking dick on camera!” Ryan sniffles and puts a hand over his chest, trying to sound overcome with emotion. He hasn’t shut up since Matt delivered the papers.

“I hate you _so much_ ,” Jack grits out, covering his face with his hands.

“Dude, did you _look_ at the copy of the contract Matt sent?” Ryan paces around Jack’s bed and grabs the papers from his desk. “Maybe we should use fancy ass paper for our contracts too, make us look more official.”

Jack sighs, flopping back onto his bed. “ _Please_ get outta my room.”

Skimming his eyes over it excitedly, Ryan says, “Oh man, can I go with you when you get waxed? Did you already send in your STI results? _Fuck_ , are you gonna bleach your a-hole? ‘Cause it says here that’s optional.”

Jack smothers his face into a pillow, groaning.

Ryan gasps. “There’s checkboxes for whether you’re a _top_ or a _bottom_ , Jack! And a _flexible_ box!” He squeals gleefully and practically skips around the room, nudging at Jack’s leg with his foot. “ARE YOU OPPOSED TO RIMMING, JACK!?”

That’s it. “ _Fuck it._ ” Jack gets up and chases Ryan out of his room, fuming as Ryan cheerfully reads more from the contract as he runs. “Creampies, and facials, and butt plugs, oh my!” He sing-songs, nearly smacking into the kitchen counter before zooming into the living room. Jack finally manages to tackle Ryan over the couch, huffing and smiling triumphantly until Ryan rolls onto his back and starts giggling.

He snatches the papers back and stands. “Fuckin’ _hate_ you, Ry.”

“Nah, you know you love me,” Ryan grins, settling on the ground with his arms behind his head as Jack walks back to his room. “And don’t miss that _bareback_ clause, boo!”

 

**

Friday comes rolling around faster than Jack’s ready for, and as soon as he wakes up he starts obsessing over what the fuck he’s doing.

Is he seriously going to do porn with a guy he’s only met _twice_ now? Is he really going to go on a _date_ with the guy he’s going to do porn with? He guesses he is, considering how gung-ho he’s been about it all week. Damn it, Jack is in deep. Two days ago he even asked Bob to look over the contract with him, which was a fucking _mortifying_ experience. Bob now knows _way_ more about Jack than he _ever_ needed to.

It’s weird, but even now with the niggling doubts, all he has to do is picture Mark’s face and all of his reservations vanish. How does _that_ work - he just met the guy!

Jack is screwed. Probably literally considering he only marked one checkbox.

He doesn’t know why, but he starts googling Mark’s _Out_ spread, typing “M A” before he remembers that he doesn’t publically go by his real name, and searches for “Mr F Out”. For a split second Jack wonders if maybe that’s too vague, but it returns as the first damn result, and Jack hesitates before clicking on the article, gulping as Mark’s dorky handsome face appears on [the page](http://40.media.tumblr.com/a1288cfad73aa1547533c85624ca8d03/tumblr_inline_o5j1kgTfFL1qzdzov_1280.png).

He stares at the picture for longer than he’d like to admit. His heart does a stupid fluttery thing and he can’t seem to look away. He’s about to scroll down when he gets a message from Ryan, (and the message tone didn’t startle him at all, he’s not doing anything wrong, fuck you.)

 _‘Guess who I ran into!!’_ Jack knows. He doesn’t know how but he just _knows_. His face is already burning before his phone pings with the next message, which is a picture of fucking Ryan taking a fucking selfie with fucking _Mark_.

_‘GAVE HIM UR DIGITS BTW oh yeah and can u please call felix and tell him tomorrow’s shoot is postponed till monday, thx’_

Jack gulps, staring at the picture of the two of them. He glares at Ryan, who’s making a stupid kissy face at the camera, but he can’t stop looking back at Mark. Mark’s smiling and wearing a suit, grey and sleek with a black tie, and sunglasses. _Fuck_ he looks good.

Oh shit, is Jack gonna have to wear a tie for tonight? Is he gonna have to wear a suit? He has one, but he’s only ever worn it once and that was about two years ago. Why didn’t he think of this shit? Jack glares at his phone like the whole thing is its fault.

Mark looks really good in a suit. Jack is so fucked.

 

**

Jack is getting ready, looking himself over in the bathroom mirror and wondering if he should go with the blue suit he has on. The date’s still a good two hours away but he feels so fucking jittery and _unprepared_. He doesn’t fuckin’  _do_ suits, and he feels like a kid playing dress up more than a grown up man going on a grown up date.

He’s about to change into the grey suit he kept from his cousin’s wedding, when his phone starts ringing. It’s probably Ryan, who’s been calling up to tease him since he sent that picture of Mark. Sighing, Jack grabs his phone and answers. “Ryan, I swear I’m gonna fuckin’ _end_ you--!”

“Not Ryan, sorry!” Mark says, laughing. “I can have Matt give him the message though, if you want.”

“Oh, uh, Mark,” Jack says, blinking and clutching the phone a little tighter. “Hi.”

“I hope you aren’t too creeped out that I got your number off Ryan, he sort of… _insisted_.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Jack feels like there’s fucking _butterflies_ fluttering in his stomach like he’s a teenage girl, but it’s _fine_. “Couldn’t wait to talk to me till tonight, huh,” Jack says, trying to keep his voice even and cool.

“No, I couldn’t,” Mark says, his smooth confident voice shaking Jack’s resolve. “In fact, I - hah, I was thinking maybe we could meet up sooner than planned?”

 _Oh boy._ Jack swallows and tries to keep his voice light. “How soon d’ya mean?” As soon as he says it the doorbell chimes, and Jack’s heart is beating so hard he’s almost worried that Mark might hear it over the phone.

He walks over to the door, undoing the lock and opening it slowly. Mark is standing there, still holding his phone to his ear. He’s wearing a well-fitted white shirt with a black jacket and jeans, and he’s shifting from foot to foot, smiling nervously at Jack.

“Hi,” he says, head ducked so that red hair falls over his eyes.

“H-hi,” Jack says.

After a while of just staring at one another, Mark huffs and shakes his head. “This is too weird, right?” He blurts, holding a key out in front of him. “I mean, Ryan said it’d be cool and gave me his spare - but I shouldn’t even technically know where you _live_ , let alone have the key to your fucking apartment building. I just - I don’t usually do this, _dating,_ n-not in a while. And it made sense at the time, but I _totally_ get if you feel like I overstepped some major bounds here, I mean - _I_ probably would. Jack, I--”

“Mark,” Jack stops him, holding a hand up in front of his face. “Dude, _breathe_.”

Mark snaps his mouth shut, looking at Jack and then back to the floor. He sways a little on his feet, like he’s debating taking a step back and walking away - and Jack _really_ can’t have that.

He takes Mark’s hand and pulls him forward, fingers trailing up his arm and looking at him for any sign of _no_ . He leans in slowly, just barely brushing his lips against Mark’s cheek. “I’m _glad_ you’re here, you idiot,” he says softly, smiling.

“Oh…” Mark says, starting to grin. His face is adorably flushed, and Jack can’t help it, he grabs him by the lapels of his jacket and pulls Mark in over the threshold, closing the door behind them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Do you like my stupid hair?_   
>  _Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear?_   
>  _I'm just scared of what you think_   
>  _  
> [You make me nervous so I really can't eat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vVy9Lgpg1m8)  
>  _

[Drawn date](http://68.media.tumblr.com/a99da92ab7ddd280b9ad333c45d02450/tumblr_o87e2tqry31u1ktwco1_1280.png) ○ [Originally written (scrapped) start](http://itwascrabpeople.tumblr.com/post/144911787533/septiplier-fic-excerpts-part-dos) ○ [Story playlist](http://itwascrabpeople.tumblr.com/post/152116703223/do-you-wanna-get-triple-x-groovy-a-playlist-for-my)  


 

The universe is against Jack getting laid. 

Oh sure, it may _sound_ like he’s exaggerating, but with the evidence all stacked up it’s pretty fuckin’ clear that some higher power is trying to sabotage any and all Jackaboy-cock-action. 

It was an unspoken agreement to go to Jack’s once they’d left the restaurant.

Here’s how it went down: As he and Mark left the restaurant it started to rain. Yeah, no big, that’s not a grand sign. _But,_ when Mark tried to hail a cab, water from the gutter sloshed onto Jack’s shoes and socks. Just awesome. Though, of course, incidental shit happens, probably doesn’t mean anything. _Then_ , as Mark is backing away from the sidewalk he steps on Jack’s soggy foot, swears and startles so hard he trips backwards into an old woman.

There was some shouting and lots of awkward apologising, it was a pretty tense fifteen minutes.

And now, here in Jack’s own home, as he’s trying to find the goddamn lightswitch to his room with Mark kissing and laughing against the back of his neck, Jack trips in the darkness and stubs his toe on a fucking ironing board.

 _An ironing board_ . He didn’t even know they fucking _had_ an ironing board!

“Ow!” Jack shouts. “Owowow _fuck_.”

“You okay?” Mark asks from behind him, his hands absently stroking Jack’s chest.

“Yes. No.” Jack groans and slumps back against Mark. “D’ya ever get the feeling that the universe is against your dick?”

Mark chuckles against Jack’s shoulder, presses a firm kiss to the side of Jack’s neck as his hand moves down. “You should post that somewhere,” he laughs, fingers tracing Jack’s belt. “Hashtag _justirishcockthings_.”

He turns Jack towards him in the same breath, fingers sliding against the skin just beneath his nice dress shirt.

“Oh yeah, it’d get _all_ the retwitters and updogs,” Jack smiles, glancing at Mark’s big smiling face before finally leaning in to kiss him. Amazingly, the universe doesn’t try to screw _that_ up.

A little while later - somewhere amid the pawing off of shirts, and shoes, and stupid weirdly knotted neckties ( _Mark_ ) - they end up sprawled on Jack’s bed in only their underwear, with Mark lying half his body on top of him.

“Hi,” Jack says, his voice cracking on the word as Mark smiles down at him.

“Hello,” Mark chuckles, tilting his head. A few strands of red hair fall in his eyes at the movement and he starts comically blowing them away, nearly flinging himself off the bed. He starts exaggerating it worse when he notices Jack laughing at him.

It’s funny how quickly the mood shifts after that; one second Jack’s calling Mark a lame dork and shoving at his chest, and the next he’s steadying his movements with a gentle hand to Mark’s cheek. They both go still, just looking at one another; quiet and assessing all of a sudden.

Leaning up to kiss Mark right now would be too easy, Jack thinks - and so he does, his heart thumping in his chest a mile a minute as Mark settles into the curve of his body.

“Is this too fast?” Mark asks, lips sliding down Jack’s chin to his neck. “I don’t wanna freak you out.”

“Just don’t call it an audition afterwards,” Jack replies somewhat shakily, trying to keep his breathing even. He can’t keep his hands from scrabbling over Mark’s back, as if he could get him any closer by pulling him in.

Mark pushes Jack’s legs apart by sliding his knee between them, pulling back to watch Jack’s face as he thrusts just the once against him. “ _Jack…_ ”

Suddenly, from somewhere on the ground his phone starts ringing with a tune he did _not_ set as a ringtone. “ _Do ya think that I could get some?... Maybe gets a little finger sticky--_ ”

“Oh my God, fuckin’ _Ryan_ .” Jack rolls out of the bed, overshooting and dropping to the floor in a huddled heap with some of his blankets. Mark gasps and starts laughing giddily from the bed. But Jack is utterly _mortified_ as he scrambles to reach his jeans with his phone in the pocket. “ _Gonna take that booty to the nudie dimension_!”

Finally, he grabs his phone and answers the call, immediately hearing dual laughter on the other end. “You pieces of shit!” They only laugh harder, and Jack huffs and ends the call, turning his phone off for good measure.

He stands and turns to the bed where Mark is practically rolling around laughing, clutching at his stomach and scrunching his eyes as he laughs loudly. “It’s not, it’s not…” He tries, “It’s just your _face…_ you, _your…_ ” Mark dissolves into more giggles, abs flexing attractively - a dumb part of Jack’s baser instincts notices.

Jesus Christ, Jack’s face feels _so_ hot, he’s gotta be red as a tomato. But as Mark’s laughter dies down, so does Jack’s embarrassment, and he finds he’s been smiling all this time. Not at Ryan’s dicketry, but probably from watching Mark, half-naked on his bed and laughing like an idiot.

And no way is he going to let Ryan _or_ the fuckin’ universe get in the way of him and Mark doing the horizontal nasty. So he says, “ _Fuck it_ ,” and jumps onto the bed, lets Mark pull him in by the waist as he reaches for the edge of his underwear. “Get these off, ya dillhole.”

Mark smiles at him toothily, settling back and fluttering his eyes at Jack. “Do it for me?

 Jack grins.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I am lucky  
>  You are lucky  
> Let us  
> [Get lucky together](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooyqk_sZguk)_

_“Do it for me?”_

 Jack’s about to - holy  _hell_  is he about to - when his phone rings again. Except that... wait, that’s not  _his_ phone…

  _“_ _You and me baby ain't nothin' but mammals, so let’s do it like they do on the--”_

 “Oh… my…”

  _“Gettin horny now--!”_

 “Wow,  _wow_.” Mark goes wide-eyed, staring down his phone. “Oh Matt is fired. Matt is  _oh-so_ fired.”

 As much as Jack would like to win back the mood, it’s sort of hard to do with Bloodhound Gang playing ominously in the background, though Mark insists he can make it work even as he silences it.

 “My first time happened while her parents were listening to the Macarena downstairs,” he tells Jack. “Full blast, haven’t been able to listen to it without getting at least a  _little_ aroused since.”

 Jack cracks up and winds up on the floor next to the bed, clinging to his sheets. “Oh  _God_. Mine happened after a Slayer concert, met this huge guy in the mosh at the show and we just started making out right after.”

 “That actually happened? In _real life_?”

 Jack nods emphatically. “The guy was like 6’2, long wavy hair, full beard, torn-off sleeves and spiky wristbands, you know the whole deal. But he was just, like. this  _wall_ of muscle.”

 “You had angry metal moshpit sex?”

 “He was actually super gentle,” Jack laughs. “I mean  _really_ , like the dude took his time. And I was nineteen, I just wanted something,  _anything_ to touch my dick. I actually started gettin’ bored for the first part of it.”

 “Gentle metal sex,” Mark laughs. “I love it.”

 “Best part?” Jack sits up, kneeling on the floor with his arms folded on the bed. “His name was Gerald and he had three cats.”

 Mark throws his head back and laughs, and Jack loves the little crinkles in the corners of his eyes. His phone buzzes and Mark groans as he reaches for it.

 “Damn it,” he says, reading the message and looking up at Jack with a grimace. “I have to go, like right now.”

 “Oh,” is all Jack can say, disappointment crashing on his good mood. “Okay.”

 “But this was great,” Mark says, reaching for his pants and shimmying them on. He stops for a moment and crouches down beside Jack. “Hey,” he says, and when Jack turns to face him Mark plants a soft kiss on his mouth.

 “ _You’re_  great,” Mark tells him emphatically, and Jack hates how easily he blushes at this. “Can I call you? Like, later, I mean.”

 “Barring anymore embarrassing ringtone changes,” Jack says, smiling. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

 Mark grins, and goes in for another kiss. His lips linger this time, and his head tilts, and for a moment Jack thinks he might stay, just as Mark swears and reluctantly pulls away.

 “Leaving... business... grown up responsibilities…” He says, staring at Jack’s mouth, then shakes his head. “Okay, bye!”

 He dashes out, the hurried slam of the front door echoing into the hallway. Jack sighs and flops back onto the floor and stares up at the ceiling. He smiles.

 

*

 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep on the floor, but that’s where he wakes up - thanks to Ryan prodding his face with his bare foot.

 “Gross, dude!” Jack cringes, swatting his foot away. 

“I was checking for signs of life.” Ryan shrugs, holding a bag of cheetos that he offers to Jack. “Hungry?” 

“For breakfast yeah, not so much for cheetos,” Jack grumbles, sitting up and pulling himself onto the bed. He feels so groggy he can’t even bring himself to care that he’s only in his underwear. “What time is it?”

 “2pm, my small, naked, Irish friend,” Ryan says, chewing, then grins. “You must’ve stayed up late, how’d it go with Mr. Fuck Me?”

 “Dude, don’t call him  _that_ ,” Jack says, grimacing.

 “What! I assumed that’s what the F standed for.” Ryan throws a cheeto into the air and catches it in his mouth. “Anyway, like it’s a stretch, the guy runs a  _porno_ company.”

 Jack shakes his head, realising he himself doesn’t know what the ‘f’ stands for. “Still, I don’t ever wanna hear  _you_ sayin’ those words in that order. ‘S nightmare fuel.”

 “You’re such a prude.” Ryan crunches the bag in his hand and leaps onto Jack’s bed, landing on his side and bouncing a little. “C’mon, let’s get with the girly gossip, did you guys, like,  _hold hands_? Did you kiss? Did he use  _tongue_?”

 “Ugh, you’re an embarrassment.” Jack grabs his pillow and throws it in Ryan’s face. “And as if I’m tellin’ you anything after that stunt you and Matt pulled last night.”

 “Aww but Jaaack, you gotta give me the deets!”

 “You are far too involved in my personal life as it is,” Jack says, and shoves at Ryan to get off his bed. “Now shoo, I need to make a call.”

 “Oooh, is it to your boyfwieend?” Ryan clasps his hands together and puckers his lips, but allows himself to be pushed out of the room.

 Jack sighs and grabs his phone, his thumb hovers over Mark’s name in his contacts. Biting the inside of his cheek, he wonders if it’s cool to call someone the day right after the date? He hesitates, and thinks better of it - and decides to call Bob instead.

 “Hey man, you think I can swing by tomorrow an’ get those papers?”

 

*

 

Another week rolls by, and Wednesday is a long ass drag of a day, though admittedly Jack hasn’t been feeling so great since his date; Mark never called. Jack left about three messages before he started feeling horrificly pathetic.

 To “cheer him up”, Ryan drags him along to a frat house shoot, and, though Jack never thought this possible - he feels he’s seen his fair share of dicks to last him through the week at least. He’s exhausted.

 Once they’re home and his bedroom door is closed Jack leans against it and sighs. He throws himself onto the bed and looks at his phone, mentally willing Mark to call him. After a moment his message tone chimes, and Jack’s eyes widen in shock.

 He quickly goes to grab it, and when he sees it’s from Bob he can’t help but be disappointed.

  _Hey man,_  it says, _can we do lunch tomorrow? Need to talk contract deetz~_

 Sighing, Jack writes, _Okie doke sure,_   _11:30 at the bench ?_

 Bob answers with a simple  _kk’_ a second later, and Jack tosses his phone onto his bed. He’d forgotten that he took the original contract and left a copy with Bob - he was so ready to sign it after that date - he’s so stupid.

 He looks at his phone again, thinking of Mark, but doesn’t give in. He is  _not_ going to be the clingy one in whatever him and Mark have goin’ on.

 

*

 

Jack’s night is made all the worse when Ryan tells him that there’s an afterparty. Apparently Matt invited them and all other potential future “talent” to it. Luckily the frat boys have their own van to go in. The music is blaring so loud Jack can hear it even as they park across the street from the building.

 The party’s held in a loft, big and already too crowded. Jack loses sight of Ryan almost immediately amidst all the dancing and neon lights.

 He sighs and is about to go in search for drinks when a warm hand grabs his shoulder.

 “Fancy meeting you here,” a familiarly deep voice says right against his ear. Jack grins and turns around.

 “Hey, you,” he says happily, smiling and leaning into Mark - for a kiss, or hug, or  _something_ \- but Mark holds him firmly away with a tight smile. Oh.

 “Um,” Jack doesn’t know what to say to that, disappointment stirring in the pit of his stomach. So he brushes it off and yells over the music. “I was gonna go get a drink.”

 Mark’s eyebrows raise and he nods. “I’ll come with,” he says, and follows Jack, still lightly holding onto his arm.

 He looks good as always, but far too casual. Mark’s wearing his glasses and a grey cardigan over what looks like a ThunderCats shirt and slacks - Mark never seems to dress right for these parties. Even his red hair is gone, Jack notes with a slight pang.

 Once Jack gets a beer and Mark gets himself a coke, he pretty much forgets their awkward greeting and agrees happily when Mark points up towards the stairs.

 They go past a darkly lit room, and up another set of stairs to what turns out to be the roof of the building. The air is fresh and cool, and the sound of the party is just a dulled thump up here along with the sounds of traffic.

 “So,” Jack says, then bites the bullet. “...You never called.”

 Mark turns to him, eyes devastated. “Oh God, I know, I’m  _so_ sorry, Jack - it’s just -  _so much_  was going on, I don’t even know where to start.”

“That’s okay,” Jack says softly, even though it’s not really, he can’t help it. “You sound kind of overwhelmed.”

 “I  _am_ \- it’s just, ugh, I  _hate_ this,” Mark sighs, voice clearer now in the open air. “I hate parties. But they think I should be the _man of the hour_  now that I’m out in the open.”

 “What do you mean?” Jack asks, turning to look at him. “The company forces you to go to parties?”

 Mark sighs again and leans against the door. “This is… kind of my building… and where I live. My agent and my assistant threw the party.”

 “Matt?”

 “Yeah, and Tyler, but probably mostly Matt.” Mark huffs and rubs his eyes exaggeratedly. “He’s been kinda mad at me lately. I swear I’m  _this close_  to firing him.”

 Jack doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know if Mark’s being serious this time or not. He sure does  _sound_  serious, and Jack likes Matt. “Would you really?” He ends up asking.

 Mark smiles wryly at him. “Nah, never. My best hope is that he’ll find a better job and go torture someone else.”

 Jack says nothing to this, choosing instead to take a swig of beer and lean against the ledge, ignoring his urge to look down at the street far below.

 “Sorry,” Mark says, sliding down to sit on the floor and setting his coke beside him, “it’s just - I  _really_ hate parties.”

 “Oh, you’re fine,” Jack says, and sits down across from him. “There’s only so much of ‘em I can handle myself. And today’s been especially tiring.”

 “Yeah?”

 Jack nods. “We did a frat boy shoot today,” he tells him and Mark laughs. “Hey, don’t laugh! Do y’know how exhausting hazing shoots can be? They spent like three hours arguing over who was goin’ to get paddled!”

 “Aw man,” Mark says smiling, his head tilted up towards the sky. “You are  _not_ gonna be happy with me…”

 Jack looks at him curiously. “And why’s that?”

 "I may have… organised that shoot and--”

 “What!”

 “--  _and_  told Matt that if he was gonna throw this party… I  _really_ wanted you to come.”

 Jack’s eyes widen and he sets his beer down. “Oh, you son of a  _bitch_.”

 “I’m sorry!” Mark throws his hands up defensively as Jack slowly advances towards him. “I’m so  _so_ sorry, Jack! I thought just Ryan was going to the shoot!”

 “You are so dead,” Jack says, crawling closer and jabbing Mark’s sides as soon as he can reach. “ _So_  fuckin’ dead.”

 Jack tickles him mercilessly, poking and grabbing him while Mark laughs hysterically and tries to get away.

 “No! Please!... Fuck  _you_ Jack,” Mark laughs, trying to roll himself away but Jack has him pinned beneath him pretty well. “Man...  _how_  are you this strong? You’re basically a twig.”

 “I have a lot of brothers,” Jack grins, sitting himself on top of Mark’s legs and tickling him one last time. “And fuck you for callin’ me a twig.”

 They both laugh, breathing heavily. And then Mark smiles at him, and Jack feels himself go a little lightheaded.

 “How did you know I was ticklish?” Mark asks, tilting his head.

 “You said so in your interview,” Jack answers offhandedly, then immediately starts to blush.

 Mark’s eyebrows raise. “You read that?”

 “Um,” Jack says, wishing he wasn’t sitting in Mark’s lap right this second. “I skimmed it…” He pauses, looking into Mark’s questioning stare - and figures honesty’s the best policy. “Okay, so, maybe I read the whole thing…  _maybe_ twice - and bookmarked the page, but hey! You-you came to my  _house_ man, like, if we’re talking creeper levels here then…” Mark opens his mouth, and Jack freaks out. “Agh!  _Fine_ , I saved your picture to my phone, are you happy? You looked pretty and I like you so I kept it, alright? I’m a creepy stalker weirdo stalker!”

 Jack covers his eyes, his face is hot like burning and his words echo into the quiet, like the universe is shaming him. “And yes, I know I said stalker twice.”

 Mark hasn’t said anything - which bodes  _not_ -well after that little tirade. Jack is about to awkwardly shuffle off his lap and go crawl into a hole somewhere till peace comes, when he feels a hand at the nape of his neck.

 He opens his eyes and finds Mark leaning up towards him, a small, amused smile on his lips. “You are… something else, Jackaboy,” he says warmly, and pulls Jack forward into a kiss.

 

**

 

From what he told Ryan, Jack left the party the other night on a high. Having made out with Mark on the rooftop until his phone started going off non-stop. Whoever it was apparently made sure that Mark left in a hurry.

 Now here Ryan is, being a responsible adult and tidying shit up while Jack goes off to bang Mark on his lunch break. He grabs his phone as soon as it rings of course, seeing as it’s his favourite purple boy.

 “What’s up Bobby Boy,” Ryan says happily, trying to balance his phone on his shoulder as he shoves Jack’s dirty clothes off the couch. Bob tells him that Jack hasn’t been answering his phone and asks where he is. Ryan frowns and sits down. “Uh, he said he was meeting Mark, why, what’s going on?”

 Bob goes on to tell him, and Ryan nearly crushes his phone.

 

**

 

“Okay, so…” Mark gasps between kisses, holding Jack’s waist with one hand and feeling down his thigh with the other. “This might be the best lunch date ever.”

 “It gets better,” Jack says, grinning. He’s sitting on Mark’s desk, legs bracketing Mark in his seat, where he’s pulled up against the desk and between Jack’s thighs. Mark’s curious look makes him grin even wider. “I handed the contract to your secretary out there,” he says, and laughs at Mark’s surprised face.

 “Signed?” Mark asks hopefully.

 “Well duh,” Jack says, laughing as Mark stands and shoves all his papers and little figurines off his desk. His hair and suit are so endearingly messed up.

 “I’ve always wanted to do that,” Mark tells him sheepishly, then seizes Jack’s shoulders and pushes him down onto the desk, climbing on top of him. “And this,” he says, voice low, kissing Jack and grinding against him.

 “Mm,” Jack smiles dizzily, “sure you don’t want to save anything for the cameras?”

 Mark’s about to answer, red, wet mouth open slightly - when suddenly he’s pulling back and - Ryan is grabbing him.

“You  _fucking_ asshole,” Ryan says, and before Jack can sit up and say what the fuck - he’s sucker punching Mark in the jaw.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh, I thought the world of you  
>  I thought nothing could go wrong  
> [But I was wrong, I was wrong](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G6Kspj3OO0s)_

__Suddenly, Ryan was grabbing Mark._ _

“You **fucking** asshole,” Ryan said, and before Jack could sit up and say what the fuck - Ryan sucker-punched Mark in the jaw.

 

**

 

_The day before._

On Friday, Jack wakes up to the sun streaming in through his blinds and onto his face. A sudden rush of elation settles over him as he sits up. For some reason he feels excited about today, and he just can’t help but send a message to Mark.

_‘how do ya feel abt a brunch date?’_

Not five seconds later he gets a message back. _‘It’s breakfast AND lunch AND you! how can I lose?’_

Jack smiles at his phone and stretches out onto his bed.

 

**

 

They meet at eleven at the park across from Mark’s building. Mark smiles sweetly when he sees him, and greets him with an awkward bro hug.

They sit outside, Jack with a sausage roll and Mark with a banana thickshake and a bag of cookies he brought himself. “There are no food rules with brunch,” he states firmly, throwing a cookie into the air and sputtering when it hits his nose instead of his mouth.

“We’d have to ask the inventor of brunch to verify that,” Jack laughs.

“Oh, yes, of course” Mark says, bumping Jack’s elbow with his own. “Hey, how much do you bet that the inventor of brunch was gay.”

“Well,” Jack says, pretending to mull it over, “It _is_ the gayest time of the day.”

“Isn’t it though?” Mark smiles, then a peaceful silence falls between them as he takes a long sip of his shake.

Jack stares off into the distance. There’s not many people that are out right now, mostly babysitters and dog walkers and people crossing the park to work.

It’s such a nice day. The sky has a golden tinge to it that makes Jack feel strange inside; like he’s seventeen again, ditching school in the middle of p.e and climbing through the fence next to the park. It happened more than a few times, and he remembers just wandering alone all day. It’s such a weird feeling, he thinks, like being nostalgic for something that wasn’t all that great when it happened - it was just so long ago.

Jack clears his throat, “This’ll sound weird but… what were you like, when you were seventeen?”

Mark frowns, looking bemused. “Hmm, just an average high school nerd, I guess” he says, “I got along with most people. Uh, I was in the marching band…” Mark pauses and holds up a finger when he sees Jack’s eyes go wide. “Shut the hell up.”

“ _But_ \--”

“Shush!” He puts his finger on Jack’s bottom lip, and Jack bites it playfully. Mark stares for a moment before clearing his throat and putting his hand down. “I was also _totally_ in denial of my sexuality.”

“Go figure,” Jack says, and touches Mark’s wrist. “Me too.”

Mark folds his hands in his lap, frowning. “What was it like for you? Coming out - I mean, if you want to answer, I know it’s not--”

“ _Shhh_ ,” Jack says and, mimicking Mark, he puts a finger to his lips. “When I came out it was… messy.”

Mark stays silent, and watches him intently.

With a sigh, Jack continues, “Okay look, I was an asshole kid. I have a lot of siblings and, y’know, big cliche, I got into trouble a lot. I stole shit I didn’t need, I skipped class to smoke weed in the bathrooms, got my ears pierced and stretched ‘em so I wouldn’t get hired for jobs my dad got for me. But, the worst time, was when I got caught spray painting a train.”

“My mother had to come pick me up from the police station. And, you know, I’ve seen her pissed before; she yells, I yell, usually that’s how it’ll go, but this time… she just… wouldn’t say _anything_. The whole ride home, she wouldn’t even look at me. And I think she was crying before she came in and got me but... things just weren’t the same with us after that.”

Mark goes to hold his hand, and Jack lets him, tilting his head. “So anyway, a few weeks later I sit them down, tell ‘em I’m gay and “ _fuck you, deal with it_ ”. And they told me to pack my bags.”

“That’s awful,” Mark says sincerely, “you were just a kid.”

“Nah,” Jack says, waving him away. “I always knew it was more ‘cause I was a shitheel than ‘cause I was gay. ‘Fore I left, my dad handed me a couple hundred and told me to sort myself out, and make my life count. “You’re more than just some low-life punk, Sean”, he said, and my dad never calls me Sean,” Jack smiles ruefully at the memory. “Anyways, things got better between my parents and me when I went to college.”

“That’s…” Mark starts, then clears his throat. “I’m glad.”

“But, what about you?” Jack turns to look at Mark. “How did you come out?”

“Ah, _well_. I had the luxury of being utterly fucking confused for as long as I can remember,” Mark laughs awkwardly. “When I was a teenager and started dating girls I thought, yeah okay, this feels right, but then Johnny Football Hero would smile at me on the field during practise and my brain was like, _nope_ , back to the drawing board.”

He goes quiet, but then Jack squeezes his hand and Mark smiles. “I never got to… come out to my dad, he died before I was even close to figuring anything out, including what I wanted to do with my life. My step-mom was the first person I ever _actually_ told, and then my mom… she’s… still trying to come to terms with it. I mean, she’s supportive,” Mark huffs and scratches his chin. “But I think it would be easier for her if I was _just_ gay, then I wouldn’t have to _constantly_ explain why sometimes I’ll date women if I also like men.”

“With my brother it’s different, it’s like he’s always known, so it wasn’t a big deal to him,” Mark says, swallowing, “my being bi. Um. I only came out to them last year.”

“Last- oh,” Jack says shocked, raising his eyebrows. “Oh - but - the company?”

“Yeah,” Mark laughs, “That was… a miscalculation, it got way bigger than I thought it would when I started it - and,” he pauses and turns his body towards Jack, “Can I tell you something?”

Jack nods, “Cross my heart.”

Mark smiles at him. “The company’s tanking,” he tells him quietly, cringing. “I was always going to sell it but its value isn’t what it was. Which is why I… _came out_ , so to speak, in the article, and, you know,” he gestures between them, “I’ve been trying to generate buzz around it to up the price.”

“What would you do with all that money?” Jack asks, bewildered.

“Well, what I really want is to redirect the money towards charity work, maybe make my own charity organisation,” Mark answers earnestly, holding his hands out before him. “I want to make something that actually makes a difference, you know? Something my dad would be proud of.”

Jack smiles fondly at Mark, and places a hand on his leg.

“That’s amazing,” Jack says, “You - I definitely think it’ll work.” He feels his chest constrict when Mark puts his hand on top of his.

Jack doesn’t ask the question at the back of his mind - if what’s between them is part of Mark’s plan to get the company more attention - but he resolves not to. He _knows_ Mark, he trusts him. And what Jack feels for him… that _has_ to be enough.

 

**

 

_That day._

“Hey Tyler, just calling to confirm that you received those… err,” Kathryn pauses to read the small slip of paper, shaking her head, “Serious Business Mystery Papers”? _Why_ do I let Ethan title the memos?”

Tyler laughs over the phone, “Yeah, I got them on my desk an hour ago and faxed ‘em over to Wade. Hey, have you seen Mark today?”

“Not since that twinky green-haired guy went into his office,” Kathryn tells him, smirking, “which also happened to be over an hour ago.”

“Is he twinkier than Ethan?” Tyler asks.

“Oh no,” Kathryn says seriously, “that’s not physically possible.”

“I heard that!” Ethan yells in the background.

Kathryn huffs. “You had me on speaker?  _Really_ Tyler?”

“What! I’m sending important emails and stuff, I can’t…”

Kathryn stops listening as she watches a strange man exit out of the elevator, striding fast up to her desk. “Excuse me, sir, can I help you?”

“Is that Mark’s office?” He asks, looking a little wild-eyed as he points to the door.

Befuddled, Kathryn lowers the phone and answers, “Uh, yes, I can--”

“Thanks,” the man says, cutting her off as he makes his way to Mark’s door.

 

**

 

_Present._

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ , Mark, are you okay?” Jack asks, deeply shocked as he stretches a hand out to Mark, but Ryan gets in his way, looking ready to hit him again.

“Okay,” Jack says, sliding off the table to stand between them and faces Ryan. “Will you calm the _fuck_ down for two seconds and explain what’s goin’ on?”

“Ask _him_ ,” Ryan says, not tearing his eyes away from Mark.

Mark, for his part, stays on the floor, his hand hovering over his bleeding nose and keeping his eyes down.

“Sir, _please_ , you’ve gotta wait outs--” His secretary Kathryn walks in, then stops when she takes in the full scene.“Mark, oh my _God_ …”

she says, horrified.

“It’s okay, Kathryn,” Mark says calmly, holding up his hand, “just… just close the door and cancel the meeting I’ve got this afternoon.”

“But,” Her eyes dart to all of them, panicked, before settling on Ryan. “But Mark…”

“I _swear_ it’s fine,” Mark says, lifting himself up and looking at her imploringly. “ _Please_.”

After a moment, Kathryn nods her head once and steps back out of the room, slowly shutting the door behind her.

Mark puts a hand on his desk and sighs, then winces as more blood gushes out of his nose.

Jack moves to help Mark again, but much to his frustration, Ryan pulls him back. Jack angrily shrugs him off and looks between the two. Mark is still staring at the floor, and Ryan - sweet, soft, never even so much as _pushed_ anyone - Ryan, looks raring to kill.

“Okay,” Jack starts, “Fuckin’ _one_ of you’s had better explain. Now,” he says through his teeth.

“Okay,” Ryan says, pacing in front of the desk, “What about it, huh, Mark? Tell Jack here how you fired Matt...”

“He quit,” Mark mumbles.

“...and _why_. Tell Jack how you revised the contract before faxing it to him, tell him what Bob told _me_ ,” he practically snarls.

It’s all too much for Jack to process at once. None of it sounds _plausible_. He closes his eyes and takes a step back. “Wait…” he says faintly.

“Tell him about the _agreement_ , Mark,” Ryan says, his upper lip curling. “Tell him _everything_.”

Blood drips from Mark’s nose, staining his purple carpet, but he doesn’t bother to stifle it as he straightens and looks right at Jack.

“You, _please_ … Jack, what you need to know first is that it’s… it’s _really_ complicated.”

“Okay, got that,” Jack says stiffly, feeling frozen in place as tension rolls down his spine. “Explain the fucking rest of it.”

Mark shakes his head, looking pained as he says, “Jack…”

“What did you put in the contract, Mark?” Jack asks weakly.

“We didn’t add anything that wasn’t already there before,” Mark says, anguished, “it just… wasn’t as clear before.”

“Absolute contractual discretion,” Ryan chimes in, “There was more to it than that, and Bob can fill you in, but essentially, you and him on camera are a thing - outside of that however, it’s purely business,” Ryan looks at Jack at this, “Like a dirty secret.”

Jack knows Ryan’s on his side here, but right now he could actually fucking punch him in his smug face. “How can that be if we’re going to _literally_ be fucking on camera?”

“That was all it was ever gonna be,” Ryan says, looking surprised at the vitriol Jack is aiming towards him. “He even has a beard all lined up and pretty.”

Mark doesn’t say anything to contest this, instead, avoiding Jack’s gaze, he reaches over and pulls a tissue out from the box on his desk to dab at his nose. His hands are shaking.

”That’s bullshit,” Jack says, though the uncertainty he feels comes through in his voice, “Right, Mark? It’s just another one of his pranks, right? Is that a blood-bag?”

Neither Mark or even Ryan say anything for a moment. The silence is damning enough. Jack feels like his heart is plummeting to his stomach. He shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut a few times. “I have to get out of here,” he says, breathing fast.

Mark looks up at him, and Jack catches sight of his worried expression before he looks down again. He was hoping Mark would say something to stop him, but he just keeps dabbing at his nose.

Jack doesn’t remember walking out of the room. He doesn’t really hear what Ryan’s saying as he follows, barely recollects leaving the building, and he doesn’t speak until Ryan’s guided him into his car.

 

**

 

Tyler ran up as soon as Kathryn called, the panic in her voice was enough for him to forsake waiting for the elevator and just run up the stairs to Mark’s office. She looks at him when he arrives, she’s visibly shaken.

“You okay?” Tyler asks, and she nods, still clutching the phone as she points to the door left slightly ajar.

”Some guy ran in and-and hit Mark, and…” She trails off and Tyler takes her hand and guides her to her seat.

”It’s okay,” he says, “you’re okay. Is the guy still here?”

She shakes her head. “Just Mark, the man took off with that green-haired guy, but Mark won’t let me in - he told me to wait out here. I wasn’t sure if I should’ve called security...”

Tyler shakes his head, looking at Mark’s door. “I’m gonna go in, okay? Everything’s gonna be fine.”

Kathryn nods at him, taking a deep breath and settling into her chair.

Tyler knocks on the door, then, when there’s no response he turns the handle and finds it unlocked. He walks into the office, finding Mark sitting on the edge of his desk, holding bloody tissues. ”What the hell happened?” Tyler asks, quietly shutting the door behind him. “Kathryn said someone _hit you_?”

”It’s nothing,” Mark says, sniffling. He tugs at the lapels of his suit, does up a button he didn’t realise was undone. “Tell her not to worry… just... I need to go home for the day. Can you tell Goodwin I’ll call him tomorrow?”

Tyler looks at him incredulously. “How are you seriously saying “nothing happened” when there’s blood all over you? Dude, Kathryn is seriously _freaking out_ out there - she said some crazy guy barged in and _punched_ you, we have to call the cops--”

” _Don’t_ make this a bigger deal than it is,” Mark cuts him off, suddenly frantic. “Tyler I... I fucked up okay? I just want to go home and… and I’ll call you tomorrow. I _swear_.

Tyler opens his mouth to protest, but Mark gives him a pleading look, and Tyler knows he’s not going to get anymore out of him. He nods and pats Mark on the shoulder.

”Just,” Tyler starts with a sigh, “ _Call me_ if you need anything, alright?”

Mark doesn’t say anything as he walks out of the room.

 

**

 

Ryan hasn’t stopped speaking since they got in the car. He’s anxious, Jack can tell. Ryan’s not used to physical confrontation. He’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. “ _God_ , we are suing that fucker,” he says.

Jack doesn’t say anything to that, just turns his head to stare out of his window. Nothing that happened seems real, his head hurts just trying wrap his mind around it.

“We're milking him for every dollar he's fucking worth - _fucking Christ_! The _nerve_ of that asshole. You didn’t sign anything, right?” Ryan asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, I spoke to Bob. There’s legal fucking precedent here - that asshole changed the terms without your knowledge, that contract is as good as void.”

“Ryan…” Jack says quietly. His head aches and his chest is sore.

“ _Fuck_ it felt good to hit him, part of me just wants to go back there and do it again.”

“ _Ryan_ ,” Jack says again, more firmly this time. “I don’t. I _can’t_ do this right now.”

“Jack, buddy, don’t even worry,” Ryan says, ignoring him. “We're going to bleed that fucker dry, god the fucking _gall_ of that guy, to look all pathetic and heartbroke after what _\--”_

” _RYAN_ , Jesus _enough_ already, okay?” Jack shouts, hitting the dashboard, “Just… just fucking _shut up_.”

Ryan gapes at him, then he turns the wheel and parks the car on the side of the road. “Alright, what the hell is your problem?”

”What’s _yours_?” Jack spits back, rubbing his palms into his eyes. “Christ, why’d you have to hit him?”

Ryan looks gobsmacked. “Are you _serious_? After the shit he pulled-- you expect me to just let that go--?”

Jack takes a deep breath, and says slowly, viciously, “I _expect_ you to not make everything in my life a fucking _spectacle_ \- which is what you do! What you _always_ do!” Jack doesn’t know where that came from, it’s not what he meant to say, but now that it’s out he can’t help but keep going. “Everything about me is some big fucking _joke_ to you, Ryan. Did it ever occur to you to _think_ about how I’d feel? Fuck’s _sake_ , you know I actually _care_ about Mark.”

“He _lied_ to you,” Ryan says through gritted teeth, still holding tightly onto the steering wheel.

“And you punched him! But what do I get?” Jack shakes his head. “He betrayed _me_ , alright? That is _my_ pain, _my_ life, and it’s for _me_ to fuckin’ deal with. You could’ve gone in and talked to him like an _adult_ , or better yet! _Told_ me _beforehand_ instead of blindsiding me, but no.” Jack undoes his seatbelt and grabs the door handle. “There’s not enough drama in that for you, so thanks. You’re a fucking _great_ friend.”

Jack ducks out of the car and doesn’t listen to Ryan yelling after him. It’s not that far back to his apartment. He’ll walk.

**Author's Note:**

> This should go without saying, but I know nothing about legal thingamajigs or the porn industry that I didn't google or learn from other, better stories. So take anything about those subjects in this fic with the teeeensiest grain of salt, and have your suspension of disbelief goggles on.
> 
> Here's my tumblr where I live and lurk (but mostly lurk): [tumblr](http://itwascrabpeople.tumblr.com/tagged/fic). :)


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